Wounded
by PitFTW
Summary: Was this how he was to die? A forgotten soldier in a forgotten land? He watched as she bandaged his wounds, stemming the flow of his life's blood. His guardian angel...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**This fic is dedicated to all of those soldiers out there. Those who have fallen and those who are at war right now. Those who are with their family this Christmas season and those who must fight, away from those they love, to end a war. **

**I am writing for the soldiers in ****Iraq****, ****Iran****, and just about any country at war right now. I wish to honor them, all of them, for their bravery and loyalty to their country. I especially wish to honor those who must leave their family behind to fight, the brave men who deserve nothing more than to spend Christmas with the ones they love. **

**Remember that you are not forgotten.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Super Smash Brothers. **

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**_December 10th, 2010_**

**_Year of Farore's Wind_**

**_Soldier's Log: Link_**

**_Day 364_**

_One more day… tomorrow would mark one year since I've been sent to war. I don't know what President Hand was thinking when he chose to set up a draft for this war. We've been battling Prime Minister Tabuu's forces for almost a year already. What was the whole point of this?_

_Two weeks 'til Christmas… I don't know what to say about that, though. I've been at war for almost a year already. I can still see the blood on my hands where it was first splattered on me during my first battle. I can still hear the screams, feel the pain of the bullets they shot at me. Worse of all, I can still see the dead and dying. I can still almost feel the pain the others felt as they fell, never to see their families again. It's like my soul is slowly being drained from me, bit by bit._

_It's been rough, really rough. The war isn't anything like the stories I heard way back when. It doesn't feel that great to hold a **real** gun, to **kill** someone with that same gun. I don't feel the same pride I did back in Ordon when I shot some game. I just feel so, so… empty. It's as if-_

His fingers paused for a moment over the keyboard, unsure of what to write next. A sigh escaped the young man as he ran his fingers, rough from the months of using a powerful rifle, through his golden locks. He shook a few stray strands of hair away from his face, trying his best to tune out the copious amounts of noise behind him.

His pointed ears twitched slightly with every sound from the room behind him, whether it was a great shout or the gentle snoring of one of his bunkmates. His sharp blue eyes narrowed in concentration as his fingers, still poised over the keyboard, descended upon the lettered buttons, ready to type his next thoughts.

"IKE, GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY SOCKS!"

"Your socks! These are _my_ socks! _Your_ dirty socks are over there!"

"Those are _your_ socks! I would never have a pair of socks as dirty as these!"

"Says the guy who wets his pants at the sight of blood!"

"That was _one_ time! _One_ time when I was still a recruit!"

He heaved a heavy sigh. There was no way he could find peace anywhere this time of year.

He turned off the computer, forgetting to save his soldier's log. With a small shake of his head, he entered the room where two of his fellow soldiers were fighting over a clean pair of socks. He rolled his eyes and gently pushed past them on the way to his own bunk.

The two soldiers turned as he passed concern for him evident in their eyes. The taller, more muscular one of them allowed the socks he was holding to drop from his hand onto the small suitcase that was laid out next to him. When the taller man wasn't looking, the other soldier snatched up the precious articles of clothing and tossed them into his own bag.

The taller man cleared his throat uncomfortably as his blonde friend collapsed onto his bunk. "Uh… sorry, Link… Marth and I sorta got carried away there…"

He flinched slightly as he and Link locked eyes, the blonde's piercing gaze sending shivers down his spine. He saw the bright flame of anger ignite from deep within those icy blue eyes, and for a brief moment he felt fear well up within him. He took a few steps back, as if the piercing gaze of his friend Link would tear out his very soul.

In truth, Link was quite angry at his two friends, but his gaze immediately softened at Ike's fear. He had been through everything with the two soldiers standing before him, ever since they were recruits back at the military boot camp. A smiled crossed his lips at the memories of when the three of them were still immature, undisciplined boys. And thus the memories of their youth engulfed him as he turned his gaze back and forth from Ike to Marth.

Tall and muscular, Ike struck many as an intimidating young man. He had a deep voice, a commander's voice that seemed to be made for leading a great army. He was mighty and bold in his coming and goings, causing him to be well respected by every man in the army. He was the "manliest of them all", the very foundation of what a man was supposed to be like.

As a youth, he was brash and overconfident, fueled by his family's reputation as great mercenaries and his own fighting prowess. This big headedness led him to eventually travel the world at the vulnerable age of 13, searching for any opponent who could match his skill with the blade. He had been caught by his father after losing horribly in a duel and forced to go to a military boot camp in an attempt to cure his boldness. And it was there that he met Marth.

If one looked at Marth, one would've said that he was the exact opposite of Ike. Tall and well muscled though he was, his build was long and lanky whereas Ike's was simply bulging with the powerful muscles that ran up and down his body. Marth's hair was naturally longer than most men's, the tips reaching to the very nape of his neck. In addition to his hair, his face was wide and innocent, like a young boy's or a woman's. With his polite manners and soft-spoken ways, it was no wonder that many mistook him for a woman at first.

Marth had been born to a rich family, growing up in the life of luxury. But though he was as good natured as could be, people tended to avoid him and even went as far as to try to harm him, thus chipping away at his confidence until he was quiet as a mouse. He had always been a shy young boy and when his family lost their fortune suddenly because of the war, he occasionally cried as well. Despite everything, he alone out of his entire family had enough courage to sign up for Military Academy and had slowly begun rebuilding his self- confidence since then.

Unexpectedly, the two bonded easily when they met at the academy, much to the surprise of their peers. Indeed, they all expected the two to loathe each other on sight, to fight over their ever clashing personalities and beliefs. Many thought that it was because they were of the same ethnicity, growing up in distant Emblemaria, though Ike was raised in the Province of Tellius whereas Marth grew up in the Province of Altea. Others believed that their friendship was a mere pretense and there was something sinister brewing underneath. But alone of all the recruits that Link knew why they had bonded so quickly.

Both had lost a sister to the war.

Though both Ike and Marth did not speak of them often, Link sensed that they loved their sisters very much. Mist Greil, whom Link had met once while she visited Ike at the academy, played an important part in Ike's life. She had been a wonderful girl, with long amber hair that cascaded down her back like a gentle waterfall and wide, kind blue eyes. Only three days after her visit, the village she was living in was attacked. Mist, lacking the skills to defend herself against the cruel Primids of Prime Minister Tabuu's army, had been tortured to the point of insanity and brutally murdered not long after.

A lump appeared in Link's throat as he remembered that faithful day when the news of his sister's death was brought to Ike. He had watched as his muscular friend's face grew pale as death; his very form shaking under the weight of the horrible news. Lucas, the unfortunate boy who had come to give him the message, ended up on the receiving end of a hard punch to his right eye.

"Lies!" Ike had screamed, tears streaming down his face, "All lies!" Then, in one swift motion, he fled the scene, unable to stop his tiers. Link tried to follow him, but a surprisingly strong hand, Marth's hand, held him in place.

"We must give him time," the Altean had said sadly, "He must have time to himself to recover from this shock…"

"But shouldn't we see that he's alright first?" the Hylian had protested. Much to his surprise, Marth gave shook his head.

"I know what it's like to lose a sister," he had explained, his bottom lip trembling at the thought of Elice, the young maiden long departed, "It takes a long, very long time, but you'll eventually get over it… your life will never be the same again, but… but no matter what, you have to move on… no point in going back…"

It was unknown what happened to Elice Lowell. Marth's last memory of her had been when he and the rest of his family had been trying to escape their manor as it began to burn to cinders. But they were being pursued by Primid troops and had little time to escape. In the midst of all the fires and the screams of Marth's family, Elice, who knew the ways of secret passages, had opened one in the armory and began helping her loved ones through it.

But as she was helping her younger brother, Marth, through the Primids burst in on them. With just barely enough time to help her brother escape, Elice had taken off the headband she wore and gently placed it on Marth's head before kissing him goodbye and pushing him away, slamming the door behind her. Though Marth and his parents escaped, Elice was never seen again.

He had joined the academy to be strong, to prove himself. To show the world he was no longer the scared little boy that fled the burning manor and watched in horror as the blackened thing that was once his home collapsed on itself in a flurry of flames.

As for Link himself, he had no choice when he joined the academy. His family was very, very poor. With his mother dead, his father had been forced to raise four kids by himself. His job brought about few Smash Coins, just barely enough to feed the three youngest children. Link often had to go without his share of lunch so that the rest of the family may eat.

He had graduated Hyrule High with honors, but he refused to go to college, despite the college fund his father had produced. He gave the fund to his father so that the rest of his family would have funds for food and enrolled at Solid Snake's Military Institute, where his athletic skill and sharp wit were put to the test.

And this was a test he passed.

"So what are you planning to do for the holidays, Marth?" Link asked as he carefully organized his clothes in his suitcase.

Marth gave him a solemn smile. "I hope to return to my parents… it has been months, after all…"

Ike nodded. "Yeah… I'd like to get back home to visit Mist's grave… this war… it's just really… really cut into my time…" he looked at Link. "And what about you, Link? Going back to Hyrule soon…?"

"Of course," Link said with a sad smile. "Dad's been waiting all this time… he's always afraid that I might die out here and that he'd never get to know until years and years after my death… " a small sparkle appeared in the Hylian's eye. "I guess I plan to surprise him… 'Hey Dad! Look, I'm not dead!'"

Ike grinned. "It might come as a shock to him… seeing that you can _still_ barely fire a gun properly!"

"Haha," Link said sarcastically. He picked up a pair of socks and threw it at the bigger man's head. "Those are yours, _Ikey_."

Ike growled. "Oh, you did _not_ just go there!"

Link smirked. "Maybe I did…"

Marth rolled his eyes. "Guys…"

"You wanna go, bub?" Ike demanded as he got to his feet. "Because I'm ready for a good wrestling match!"

Link leaped to his feet. "You're on!"

The two rushed at each other…

"Guys…?"

Link and Ike both stopped just before they were about to lock fists. There was someone standing at the door. He was a rather slightly built person with a mop of dark brown hair and blue eyes. His face was wide open and boyish, something that you almost never saw out on the battlefield. In fact, if it weren't for the gold stripes upon his uniform, he probably would've been mistaken for a refugee or something.

But in fact, he was Pit, newly instated Captain of the Army.

And he was quite a few years younger than all the soldiers.

The three soldiers straightened up and saluted. "Captain!"

Pit waved a hand. "At ease, guys… come on, there isn't any need to be so formal… I'm the same old Pit, after all!"

Ike shifted awkwardly. "Well… yeah… but… I dunno, Pit, it just feels weird seeing you with those stripes on you…"

Pit shook his head sadly. "Well… what can I say…? An awful lot's been changed ever since… ever since that new General of the Army was instated…" the boy sat down on the nearest bed and buried his face in his hands. "Honestly, I don't know what he was thinking…"

Marth frowned. "… Pit… I know the new General's a bit of a…"

"Dick," Ike offered.

"Douchebag," Link said at the same time.

Marth bit his lip. "… Yeah… that… but it's alright… I mean, once this war is over… and besides…" he gave him a small smile. "We'll all be heading home for Christmas… means that we'll be able to see our families again…"

A strange choking sound escaped Pit. He mumbled something into his hands, his voice muffled from the rest of the world. The three soldiers leaned in closer to catch his words, but already he was done speaking.

Link placed a hand on Pit's shoulder. "Listen… Pit… we didn't catch what you said…"

"Mmf murph hmph mmf…" Pit managed to choke out.

The three soldiers exchanged looks. Then, Link gently pried Pit's hands away from his face. The young man's face bore the shining marks of tears. His hands were wet and salty.

"Say it again…" Link urged quietly. "Please…"

Pit took a deep, shuddering breath. "… G-G-General… G-Ganondorf…" he took another breath. "G-General… h-has… c-c-c-can… c-cancelled…"

"Yes…?" Marth asked patiently.

Pit buried his face in his hands again.

"General Ganondorf has chosen to continue fighting the war… no one is going home for Christmas…"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**_December 11th, 2010_**

**_Year of Farore's Wind_**

**_Soldier's Log: Link_**

**_Day 365_**

_This is horrible._

_This is insane._

_Why, just why?_

_Pit's news was greeted by silence. Pure, stony silence. This was possibly the worse blow we've ever faced, the most horrid thing anyone could ever do to us. We've been planning this for months and months, counting down every minute, every second, until we could finally return home. _

_And they took it away from us._

_Ike's reaction was one of violence. He's been officially dealt with. He is to scrub the toilets with his own toothbrush until we go out for battle. If they are not spotless by the time we are rolling, he must scrub them again tomorrow._

_Marth's going to need a new bed… _

_Who could blame him? He had been going on for months about how he would visit Mist's grave, prove to her that he was still alive even after all of this horrible bloodshed. He had even picked out exactly what he would wear and exactly what flowers he would bring with him to honor her loss. And there was even talk among the soldiers about a woman…_

_Marth's reaction was, in many ways, calmer than Ike's. I suppose that it doesn't come out as a surprise that this happened. He is, after all, considered the more mature of us three._

_He fainted._

_That's all there is to it._

_He fainted, right then and there._

_I honestly cannot say what I did. It's mostly because I don't remember a thing of what happened. One moment, I was staring at Pit. The next, I was lying down in my bed. It had been morning time already._

_Did I faint like Marth or was my reaction violent like Ike's?_

_Today marks one full year since I've been sent here… since I've been sent to war._

_Today marks the first battle we must fight during the week we were supposed to go home for Christmas. Today marks another day where I have every chance of dying. Today marks another day when I may never see my family again._

_I still haven't told them about the change in plans…_

_Why, just why?_

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The shrill notes of the trumpet rang throughout the camp. Link looked over his shoulder once before quickly saving the entry. He stood up along with his fellow soldiers and saluted as Sergeant Mario entered the room. Like many of the veteran soldiers, Sergeant Mario's face was rough with scars of battle. He had only recently been promoted from Private to Sergeant and though he was of higher class than the Privates, he still treated them more kindly as compared to the other army officers.

As of late, he had taken to speaking privately with a few of them at times during the night. That was another thing about him that many of the new recruits liked. He was also social as well as kind.

He should be the one in General Ganondorf's place…

"Rise and shine, boys!" he shouted. "We have another battle today, so let's get moving!" Link's sharp Hylian ears were able to pick up something else in the Italian's voice. It was just the barest hint of sadness, as if he too was feeling the pains of General Ganondorf's orders to stay.

It was a well known fact that Sergeant Mario had a younger brother at home. Before being enlisted in the war, he had promised Luigi, his brother, that he would return and they would open their own pizza parlor together. However, though he had been out on the battlefield for over twenty years already, the dream was yet to come true. Now, at forty five years old, the promise was an even longer ways off.

"Are you prepared for yet another battle, soldiers?" Sergeant Mario barked.

"SIR, YES, SIR!" they all shouted back in unison. Link felt his throat dry up as he remembered that though he was here, his family was still back in war wracked Hyrule. They were still poor, still starving, still vulnerable…

Were they all safe?

"Are you prepared to look Death right in the face and spit at him in the eye?"

"SIR, YES, SIR!" Link's voice cracked slightly at the end. Now a new question popped up in his head.

Who would tell them if he _did_ die today…?

"Are you prepared to serve your country well and fight the forces of Prime Minister Tabuu with everything you have?"

"SIR, YES, SIR!"

Is that how he was to die?

"Are you prepared to hold your gun and shoot every enemy that gets in your way?"

"SIR, YES, SIR!"

An unknown soldier in an unknown land?

"And are you prepared to die for your General, your President, and your country?"

"SIR, YES, SIR!"

Would there be nothing to stop him?

"Now go forth and do your duty, men! Go forth!"

"SIR, YES, SIR!" twenty nine voices chorused at the same time. In a single large group, they charged out. But it was Link's that was the one voice that was never heard.

His throat had dried up with every question that ran through his mind. His heart was racing in his chest like a jackrabbit. His world was spinning.

Fear was the one thing he felt.

"Hold on just one moment, Private Link."

Link stopped and turned around, saluting as Sergeant Mario looked up at him. When the Sergeant gave the "at ease" command, Link relaxed his arm, but his shoulders and the rest of his body were still tense. There was just something in the Sergeant's stare that was strange and completely unlike any other commanding officer Link had ever encountered in his year long military career.

Sergeant Mario sat down on an immaculately made bed, sighing in content. The bed creaked slightly under the rather plump veteran's weight, but it still held. The Sergeant then looked up at Link and gestured for him to sit down next to him. The blonde hesitated for just a moment before sitting down upon the bed opposite, his shoulders still tensed.

"It has been a very, very long time since I have last sat upon these beds…" the Sergeant murmured wistfully, petting the bed he was sitting on. There was just the slightest note of sadness in his voice. "It reminds me of when I was a new recruit, just starting out…"

Link made not a sound, fearing that one wrong move would invoke the Sergeant's anger. As if sensing the Hylian's plight, Mario immediately stopped his stroking and met Link's sharp blue eyes with a steady gaze of his own. There was just something in that gaze that only veteran soldiers ever had. It was the shadow of exhaustion and mental drain, the eyes that saw Death millions upon millions of times in war.

The eyes of a life torn by blood.

"Do you fear me, Private Link?" Mario asked quietly.

Link immediately shook his head. "Of course not, Sir! I would never fear you!"

"Your eyes show the signs of fear… and yet you say you do not fear me? Well then… is it death that you fear? Are you afraid to die on the battlefield today?"

Link's throat went dry at his words. Death. Death had been his playmate ever since the day he had been born. Death was there to take away his mother when she birthed him. Death was there again to take away his step mother when she gave birth to Aryll, his one and only sister.

And Death was always there on the field of battle, waiting for him to come play again…

"… I…" Link swallowed. "… I… I cannot say…"

The look in Mario's eyes was questioning. "You cannot say?"

"I cannot say… because I am both unafraid and afraid of dying at the same time…" Link admitted quietly. His shoulders finally stopped tensing up and his hands drooped to his sides. There was a weight in his stomach now, as though what he had just said was sealing his fate out there on the battlefield.

"… You are afraid and unafraid all at once?" Mario asked. "An… interesting dilemma, Private…" he placed a reassuring hand on the Hylian's shoulder. "Please, continue…"

Link's hands trembled slightly as he spoke. "… My family… I have a family back in Ordon… I'm the eldest of four children… and my father earns little for a living… even the wages I send home to them that I earn in this war is only just barely enough to sustain them…" he buried his face in his hands.

The hand upon his shoulder tightened. "You fear… you fear that your sacrifice for your country will not be enough to sustain the family…?"

Link shuddered. "I joined the military camp by telling myself that I would help both my family and Hyrule… that it was a rewarding job and would make my father proud…" he could feel the sting of the red hot tears as they ran down his cheeks. "But… but what will happen if I die? Who will help sustain the family…? Who will tell them…? Am I truly to die all alone in a land that I do not know…?" his breath caught as he went on. "I'm asking myself now… did I merely run off to join the military for personal glory…? To stay away from my own family…? Am I truly the man I think I am or am I just another monster…?"

Mario sighed. "… Whether you are a man or a monster… I cannot say… that question is what you must decide as your life moves on… Link, you are only 23 years old… such a young age… such a young age to see so much death…"

Link shook his head. "… I was freaked out about it when I was a new recruit…" he said quietly. "But now… I don't know… Death… Death has been walking with me for so long… leading me down the road of life… waiting for me at the end…" his voice cracked. "He's waiting… waiting until I am completely alone… alone and forgotten…"

Mario gripped his shoulder tighter. "Link… you are never forgotten… no matter where you are, someone will remember you… no soldier dies an unknown soldier in an unknown land… it is through the course of the war and those that they love that their deeds and prowess are forever recorded down in history…" Mario stood up. "… Come… it is time for battle…"

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_After so long, his weapon was still foreign._

_The gun in his hand was a weapon._

_This was a war._

_Playtime was over._

_He dived behind the defensive wall, dust clogging up his nose and eyes. His ears were ringing with the great blast of the rifles as bullets rained down on him. His skin was scared white with every dreadful little bullet that had bitten into his skin._

_Was that Death waiting for him…?_

_Was he being taunted…?_

_The ground beneath him was painted red. The sharp cry of the bullets escaping their guns rang through the air. All around him, his comrades had fallen onto their backs, stomachs, or sides._

_Dead or sleeping…?_

_POW!_

_A strange pressure in his chest…_

_A searing pain throughout his body…_

_A sharp cry torn from his lips…_

_Blackness…_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**Apologies for the late update. My life has decided to take a rather… unwanted turn. For one thing, I was sitting in a plane for at least three hours before it finally took off. What a horrible start to a new school year…**

**But in the lighter side of things, I met with some soldiers on said plane. Let's just say… a short interview with them really helped me with this chapter…**

**So, if those two soldiers are reading this right now, I cannot honestly thank you enough for helping me truly tell this story in as realistic a way as could possibly be.**

**Today, we shall take a journey into the mind of another member of the regiment. Don't worry, Link shall appear again in the next chapter.  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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_December 19th, 2010_

_Year of Farore's Wind_

_Captain's Log: Pit_

_Day 366_

_It's been horrible. Our food is beginning to run out. Many of us higher ranked officers are being fed, true, but it is the soldiers that I worry about. Without them, there would be pretty much nobody to help us fight this war. _

_Water is scarce in this place. Disease rears its ugly head around every corner. We've already lost about thirty of our bravest men to sicknesses such as salmonella, cholera, and heat strokes. We've lost almost as much to other things such as dehydration and sun strokes._

_And don't get me started on the smell. Because of the water scarcity, the men are forced to use baby powder to bathe. The powder is able to cover their pores and hide the stench of their eternal sweat. But in recent weeks, our supply of baby powder has run horribly low. As a result, many of the soldiers smell worse than ever._

_If only I had it within me to help them. I know it's very improper for me as captain to show such favor to the soldiers of the Brawl Regiment, but I just can't help it…_

_I was once one of them…_

_There were many casualties. Many members of this regiment have lost their lives to the Primid guns. We don't know how much longer we will last out here. _

_There were only two of the wounded ones we were able to save. One was Private Link Gaiden. The other was Lieutenant Mario Mario. Link was severely wounded in the chest. According to the healers, the bullet almost punctured his right lung. Only a little further and he would have died. He is unconscious right now. Unconscious, but breathing._

_Mario… his condition, I cannot speak of…_

_We managed to capture an entire town of __Primids__ in our last skirmish. It is one of the tiny little villages dotted along the very border of Subspace, a dusty little town that was one of the first to feel the wrath of war. Though it is a far cry from the trading post we had hoped to capture last week, there is a little pride we could feel._

_We hope by taking this place that we can weaken the Primid resistance. General Ganondorf has ordered troops to be posted within the town to keep watch. If any of the Primid women, elders, or children should choose to rebel… well, let's just say I really hope they have good doctors…_

_Speaking of the Primids, General Ganondorf relieved me of my duties earlier today. Why?_

_I was to accompany him into our newly captured territory._

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Pit shifted uncomfortably as the army jeep jostled over the bumpy desert roads of Subspace. The large rough wheels of the military vehicle did not do well over the little pebbles embedded in the turf. What was more, there was always the danger of landmines or ambush in every corner. Though the Captain and General of the Army were both disguised, there was still always the chance…

Pit sighed and shifted his weight. One of the few things he didn't miss about being a private was riding in one of these. It had always been a horrifying experience for him, being unable to predict when they were ambushed or when they rode over a landmine. He had heard stories _and_ witnessed jeeps simply exploding in the blink of an eye…

And there were friends of his that were caught in these "accidents".

"Don't squirm," General Ganondorf hissed under his breath. Still unused to the rather gruff way the General spoke, Pit's every muscle froze and for the entire duration of the ride, he was still as a statue.

General Ganondorf was a man of rather eccentric taste. For example, rather than spending his time over in Smashville with President Hand like all the Generals before him did, he went out "into the field" as he called it. He was a man who enjoyed excitement and adventure, preferring to go in and fight the battle himself rather than sit around staring at charts.

According to him, there was a reason he had officers ranking under him.

He was a battle hardened veteran, holding a great many medals and honors and once serving over thirty years in the military from the age of 18. Now 48 years old, the scars of battle he proudly wore on his face had long faded into the greenish- tan color of his skin. Ganondorf was said to be able to drive a tank on his own if he had the whim to and was never seen without his favorite .48 caliber Gerudo Screw Barrel Pistol and bullet proof vest.

"Sir, permission to ask you a question?" Pit asked. Ganondorf's deep yellow eyes glared at the Captain through his dark sunglasses.

"Permission granted, Captain," the man replied. "But kindly make this a non pointless question. I've had enough of General Snake's complaining."

Pit gulped, unable to hold down his fear. "S-Sir… are you _sure_ you are allowed to do something like this? You are risking your life and almost abandoning your duties, and-"

"Not another word from you, Captain Pit," General Ganondorf snapped. "I am the General of the Army. If I wish to visit a small town that once belonged to the enemy, then I shall. There is something very important I wish to show you and if you would kindly relate what I show you to the many privates serving under your command, then there is the slight possibility that you may be promoted to Major once I retire."

"But General-" Pit protested before he could stop himself. Ganondorf held up a large battle- worn hand.

"That is enough from you, Captain," he said, his sunglasses glinting in the sun. "Speak out of line again and I shall have you demoted to Chief Warrant Officer."

"Sirs?" the private driving the jeep, Red, piped up. "We are currently nearing the Primid Territory of Shiroi."

"Very well, Private," General Ganondorf replied. "Drop us off at the border and pick us up at around noontime. If neither of us are there when you come, your orders are to go immediately back to base and take five of the finest soldiers you can muster. Have them burn the town to the ground if they have to."

Pit saw a jaw twitch in Red's jaw, but the Private nodded. "Yes, General."

The jeep stopped just outside the border of the tiny town. General Ganondorf climbed out of the jeep, his large booted feet kicking up even larger clouds of dust as he landed. Pit watched in slight bemusement as he breathed in deeply. It was as if he was relishing the air around him.

Pit climbed out as well. "Thanks, Red."

Red flinched for a moment. Private and Captain were once bunkmates together in military school. It had been months since they had last spoken to each other.

Since Pit was promoted…

Pit saw a flicker of hesitation behind Red's eyes, but this soon faded and the Private nodded to him. "Not a problem, Captain. It is an honor to serve you…" without another word, he drove off.

"Come," Ganondorf said sharply. Not wanting to get left behind, Pit followed after him. All through the walk, he kept checking to make sure that his disguise was still in place. For a few moments, there was nothing between the two but a cold silence that seemed to melt into the surrounding area.

"… Tell me, Captain…" Ganondorf whispered, finally breaking it. "Tell me what you see…"

Pit looked around. All around him, he could see the signs of poverty. There were many houses and buildings that were boarded up. Dust caked every surface. Spider webs flew like long sheets in the wind. The entire town carried the air of neglect and misery. But what hit him most of all…

"There is no one…" Pit answered, blue eyes scanning the area again for a sign of the certain life he was searching for. "No one to help the women, children, or elderly…"

"They lack young Primid men," Ganondorf nodded. At his and Pit's approach, the Primid children that were once playing in the streets shrunk into the shadows and watched with wide, fearful eyes as the two officials passed. Even under disguise, they both carried an aura that only military men would carry.

"Orphans…" Ganondorf muttered, gesturing lightly to the children that had shrunk away from them. "Their parents have been lost to this war. Most likely, the father while fighting and the mother to sickness…" he great man heaved a heavy sigh.

Pit was shocked. He had always known Ganondorf to be a hard man and at times, even cruel. But in the midst of this poverty, the horrors of the aftermath of a war, here was a side that Pit had never seen in his life.

"Young men have always been the ones that are to be the most relied on to get things done," Ganondorf went on. "They are stronger than women, children, and elders… they are thought to be smarter, faster, stronger, more capable… they are often doing the heavier jobs no one else can in a society, such as protection and providing for a family…"

"So… without any young Primid men…"

"There is no one to help provide for them," Ganondorf said quietly. "There is no one to protect this village should another one of our regiments or someone else attack it… vulnerable villages are the prime targets of many vile minds out there… there are women to take advantage of… children to torture… elders to be killed off… sacred items to be sold for monetary gain…"

"But… they're…" Pit was at loss for words. He had seen the Primids only as the enemy for so long, he had forgotten the important thing.

That they were living beings as well.

Just like him and the other soldiers of the Brawl Regiment, they had to eat and they had to drink. It was the cycle of life. They could die as easily as any of the other soldiers could. They had wants and they had needs…

They were people too…

Pit was aghast. "But… but surely we can put an end to this, General! Surely we will be able to pull out… like for Christmas… give them a blessing that-"

"That is what you and the other soldiers don't understand, Icarus," Ganondorf hissed. "Hear me out now for you shall now know why I have brought you here today!"

Pit stayed quiet and listened. Ganondorf's wrath was said to be legendary. And there were already enough red Primid eyes staring at them…

"Do you not see the horrors these people have gone through? Do you not see why we have no other choice but to stay here, even over the holidays? It is not only for us, but for them! What will happen if we all decide to pack up our camps and head home? Places like these shall fall into ruin! Prime Minister Tabuu maybe a cunning man, but his power is weak here on the outskirts of his reigning country! If this town and the others we have captured do not fall into the hands of another country in this world, then it shall go into anarchy!" Ganondorf's face had turned a strange red tint. It would have been rather amusing to look at had he not been so angry. "I know for a fact that Private Ike was able to shoot down the village leader in our last battle… Anarchy spreads like a disease. Once is starts, it is nearly impossible to stop it. It will not be long until the anarchy completely consumes these border towns. And what then? There will be rebellion… more blood spilled… if left unchecked, it shall soon consume the central cities where Tabuu's reign is at its most powerful… Tabuu's power falling into anarchy… all of Subspace becoming a lawless, dread filled land…"

"But… the soldiers…"

"Icarus, your personal loyalty to the ones whom you once shared a drink with is clouding your reason! Do you not know how hard a choice it was to make? Allow the Brawl Regiment to go home or have them stay here and fight? The Brawl Regiment is the one held in the highest esteem by President Hand! I had no choice but to assign the Brawl Regiment to stay in this land! I must do everything in my power to prevent this land, these people from falling into anarchy. It is only when we can finally negotiate a peace treaty with the Prime Minister… only when we can settle the dispute of who owns the lands beyond the River Palutena can we finally know peace…"

"…" Pit remained silent at these words. As the noon sun rose up into the sky, the two began their long walk back. The Captain had much to think about these days.

It was true. He had allowed his personal loyalty to his old friends to conquer his reason. Yes, he was still angry at being unable to return home to see his family for the holidays. Yes, he had every right to be angry over this, but at the same time, he knew deep down that he shouldn't be.

They called the Primids such because of the primitive way they went along with their business. They were known as the indigenous people of Subspace, hunting and gathering and farming for their food. They were subsistence farmers, not ones of commercial agriculture. It was only in Subspace City, the capital, where industrialization ruled.

This war had started because of a dispute over land. The lands beyond the River Palutena were important to Smashville's economic growth. Yet at the same time, it was a land sacred to the Primids as well. Like many of the Privates of the Regiment, Pit had always thought that the enemy was merely the enemy…

But there was definitely something he didn't see. In many ways, General Ganondorf had made a wise decision. True, it was one that would anger the entire regiment. True, this made him extremely unpopular. True, it was likely that he had just taken away the last chance any of them would see their families again.

But the Primids were people too. They were different in every way to the Smashers, but they were still people. They ate and drank like people. They slept and walked like people. They spoke and wrote like people.

War blurred the lines of good and evil. Pit thought of all of this as he climbed into the jeep. He remembered the tearful, fearful eyes of the Primid children as he passed by them.

It was time for a Brawl Regiment meeting.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**_December 20th 2010_**

**_Year of Farore's Wind_**

**_Soldier's Log: Ike_**

**_Day 367_**

_Oh Ashera, where do I begin? _

_We carried Link in after the skirmish, but he wouldn't wake up. No matter how hard I slapped that jerk, he just refused to freaking wake up! At first, we thought he was dead. I'm pretty sure Marth got ready to piss his pants or something. Luckily for us (and Marth's pants), the head doctor said that there is some hope left for him._

_… Alright, I know, I know. I sound too insensitive or whatever. But this is war. You're going to lose your buddies. Hell, I lost my sister to this stupid war… but that doesn't mean we should just sit around moping over what was lost. Besides, she's in a much better place now… right?_

_Yeah, I'm still pretty ticked over how we're supposed to stay over for the holidays. I have a family- a huge one- to feed. I have a girl at home too. It'd be nice to be able to spend some time with them after so long… heck, I'm actually half tempted to pack my things and jump on the next plane outta here._

_ I haven't received a letter from __Crimea__ in so long… I should probably be worried or something, but my family's strong. They can handle whatever's thrown at them. And I know for a fact that Titania can take care of those guys no problem._

_Here's the thing. According to Pit (sorry kid, but Captain or not, you'll always be that guy that we used to get tipsy with back in __Military__Academy__), we're here for a very important reason. That reason being is that it falls on **us** to continue fighting this war. If we stay and are able to somehow negotiate something with Tabuu, then the war will be over a **lot** faster. Well, I guess that's a pretty good reason, considering that I'm sick and tired of this place. For once in my lifetime, I'd like to have a proper shower…_

_But we're losing almost as many men as the Primids are. And since we're fighting on the Primids' home turf, there's always the possibility that numbers will overrun us. I'm losing friends left and right. We've already lost that __Roy__ guy and that Pichu kid. But what I'm asking right now is… who's next? Marth? Link? Mario? Luigi? Me?_

_Alright, don't you dare tell anyone, but I'm scared. If I die out here, alone, then who the Hell is going to tell the others? How are they going to take it? Well, alright, so Shinon might not give a shit… and Boyd might just shrug… and Gatrie might go flirt with some tree in a skirt… but the others would care. Mia won't ever be the same again if another one of the 'famous' Greil Mercenaries was lost to this war. It's been going on for years now and it might go on a heck lot longer if we don't hurry up with the peace talk already. And frankly, I'm getting downright sick of having to bury at least one of my fellow soldiers after ever single battle…_

_The longer we hesitate to bring an end to all of this, the more people will get killed, the more children will be tortured, and the more women will be defiled. We're here to end the war and that's what our main focus should be. Yeah, we should always stop to mourn our losses now and then, but then we have to move on._

_He who hesitates is lost._

_

* * *

_

The one thing he could see at the moment was darkness. It was a vast open field of nothing but pure darkness. It was darker than the deepest cave, colder than the bottom of any sea in the world. Every so often, faces would swim out in front of him. There was Ike, Marth, Pit, Mario, and all of his other buddies in the regiment. All of them were contorted with worry and… disappointment…? The more he wandered in this place, the more he became aware of another fact.

He was in pain. He was in pure, nerve ripping, undeniable pain. Every nerve in his body was slowly being skinned from him, his flesh was bubbling and curdling under the sheer weight of the pain. A warm liquid snaked its way all over his body…

He was dying…

A soft and musical sound pierced through the darkness surrounding him. For a moment, he tried to force himself out of this place, thinking that if he simply got out of here, he would be back at Ordon village. He would be able to farm and herd goats again, just like his father had wanted him to.

Right before he left for the glory of the military…

Regret washed through him like a tidal wave. It was because of him that his family would now starve. His father had wanted him to either stay and continue farming or move to Hyrule Castle Town where he could get a job and provide for himself and the family. But, rather than adhere to his father's wishes, he had merely run off and joined the military. Back then, he only thought of the honor, the glory he would receive as the famous Brawl Regiment beat every enemy they faced to a pulp. He had hoped to come home with honors, to be promoted immediately to a high ranking position and to finally prove that even a poor, not- very- educated farm boy like him could do something great…

Who was he kidding?

He felt liquid on his lips, suspended on what felt like an ice cold basin of steel. Someone was trying to force a foul smelling substance into his mouth. Reflexively, his jaw clenched shut. If this was poison, then there was no way he was allowing it to enter his system. If he was to die today then at least he would die by the bullet of an AK- 47.

"Come on… drink up…" the voice was sweet, musical. Faint and confused though he was, he could tell that it belonged to a woman. There was just the slightest burr of a familiar sounding accent behind it. "You won't be able to recover properly if you don't take this… please, drink…"

Something in him betrayed him. There was something almost familiar with this voice. For a moment, an image of his homeland, the quiet village of Ordon, in the faraway Kingdom of Hyrule flashed through his mind. He opened his lips and allowed the bitter tasting liquid to trickle down his throat. He swallowed reflexively.

"Good… your stimuli seems to be in order," the voice tinkled. Now the accent was more pronounced as his senses began coming back to him. It reminded him slightly of the type of accent of one born in the Lynaryu Province of Hyrule. Unlike in the Ordon Province, the Lynarians spoke a more refined and softer version of the Hylian tongue.

Link attempted to open his eyes, but found that when he did, everything was a huge blur. There were colors _everywhere_. For a moment, he thought perhaps someone had decided to slip something funny into his drink again. Then he mentally shook his head.

There had been no such thing as a drinking party last night.

Last night… he didn't remember a thing. In spite of his distorted vision, he was able to tell that it was morning just from the small amount of light filtering through the windows. He was also aware that he was on a bed. Not the sort of beds that the soldiers slept on, but the type that would be found in the infirmary. As his vision began to clear, his memories came back to him sharp as a two edged sword. He remembered the battle, the millions of fallen soldiers around him, the unexpected pain and pressure in his chest as he readied his gun for one final shot. A smile touched his face as he realized it.

He was alive.

"Excellent. Smiling helps… think positive. It'll speed your recovery," he sensed a trace of a smile in the woman's voice as well. "I don't suppose you'd like any more of this medicine, would you? How about some water instead? Soup, maybe?"

He had to answer her. He _knew_ he had to answer her. Summoning up whatever strength he had been given, he opened his mouth. The only noise he managed was a croak. A light laugh met him and this time, he felt the rounded rim of a cup being pressed to his lips.

He drank.

As he drank, his vision cleared. He saw a rather attractive pale heart shaped face and large blue eyes. A woman's face. Long blonde locks fell onto her shoulders like a shining waterfall and her smile warmed him on the inside as he gazed at it. There were heavy bags under her eyes from days of overwork and though she seemed not to notice, her hand shook slightly with the effort of holding the heavy steel cup to his lips. Despite that, she carried the bearing of a woman of class.

Link blinked and coughed on his water, splattering some on the woman before him. Unlike most women, who naturally recoiled at the sight of spitting men, this one simply smiled graciously and dabbed at his face with a small napkin.

"Well, I see your reflexes are still there," she laughed. She finished cleaning up him before proceeding to wipe herself off. "Good thing too. I don't know how angry General Ganondorf would be if yet another one of his soldiers couldn't go into battle because they forgot how to drink water or something."

Link remained silent, only giving her a slightly quizzical look. There was something familiar about this woman, but he couldn't really pinpoint it. Not only was her accent familiar to him, but her face as well.

"I know you're probably anxious to go and see the other soldiers or something," the woman went on as she began cleaning up a number of bottles of medicine on a tray. "But we don't want to risk making your wound any worse. I really have to say, you were _quite_ lucky. If that shot moved even a centimeter up, down, right, or left, it would have killed you…" she trailed off, her eyes moist.

Link reached up to his chest and felt a heavily bandaged part just a few centimeters from the very center of his right lung. A tiny jolt of pain from that particular spot told him that it was there were the bullet hit. As he pressed there, a small stain of red appeared on the neat white linen. Link looked up at her and noticed her expression, concern for her washing through him. He finally found his voice.

"Something… wrong…?"

She looked up at him. "Oh… no, nothing… there's nothing wrong…" she gave him a small smile. "Well… get some rest… if you get enough, you'll be up on your feet soon enough…" with a ghost of that smile that warmed him earlier, she left.

Link sighed and looked around. He had been in the infirmary of this regiment many times, but he had never been truly used to seeing so many soldiers either screaming in agony or dying. In fact, he took the time now to check each of the beds, making sure that his friends had made it through safely.

Most of the beds were occupied by the other soldiers of the Brawl Regiment who only needed to have slight bullet wounds or bruises treated. Others were being treated for one of the diseases that was usually spread around the camp. But there was one bed in particular that caught Link's eye…

Mario was lying down upon the pillows on the bed next to his, his face whiter than snow. There was a shrunken and enfeebled look to him, as if someone had simply decided to take a pin and drain all the blood out of his body. A disgustingly huge red stain was quickly spreading all over the covers.

He was barely breathing…

"I see you are well…" the Italian's weak voice cut through Link's thoughts. Caught by surprise, the Hylian flinched and nearly upended a water jug sitting on the nightstand next to him. A thin sliver of a chuckle escaped Mario's lips before quickly descending into a cough. Daisy, the Head Nurse, ran over to make sure he was alright, but Mario gently waved her away.

"I… I see you're…" Link trailed off. He couldn't bring himself to lie nor speak the truth of Mario's condition.

Mario's laugh soon turned into a hacking cough. "I know I'm dying, Link. There's no need to pretend I'm not."

A lump formed in the Hylian's throat. Though it was true that death was a commonplace thing in times of war, that didn't mean that it didn't hurt him when someone he had come to know and like as a friend was fading away before him. To him, Mario had come to represent the true grit all soldiers should have. He was strong and merciless when he needed to be, yet gentle and kind when he wanted to be. Though he would never be able to rise above a mere lieutenant, he carried a sense of triumph that few soldiers possessed. No matter what, if you worked under Mario's command, you would feel victorious.

Link had never seen him look so defeated.

"I…"

"And now you're trying to assure me that I'll be fine, aren't you?" Mario gave him a weak chuckle.

Link slowly shook his head. "No sir… I would n-"

"I'm on my deathbed now, Link," Mario said quietly. From his position, Link could see the lieutenant's great blue eyes moisten at the thought. Mario probably had someone back home as well, Link realized, probably a wife and kids at the very least. And now he was leaving them behind.

Link reached out and gripped his commander's hand. Already, he could feel the fingers growing ice cold. "Mario… I-"

"Are you still afraid, Link…?" Mario asked, his look reminiscent. Link was caught off guard by this question and for a moment, he could only sit and stare.

"Sorry… I… I don't know what you're talking about…"

"You told me yourself just before that battle," Mario continued. He turned his head slightly to meet Link in the eyes. "You said so yourself… you were afraid of dying alone… forgotten…"

The wound on Link's chest stung slightly as Mario's words. Yes, Link remembered now. He remembered how afraid he was and how he couldn't believe he was still alive. He remembered the fear before that very battle, how he had seen the writhing fingers of Death ready to come take him. And yet, he still couldn't believe he had made it out alive.

"… Yes…"

Mario weakly shook his head. Link could tell that the movement was costly for him, as he seemed to sink deeper into himself when he was done. "You… you should stop being so afraid, Link…" a thin smile curled upon Mario's lips. "No matter what happens… you'll always be remembered by someone in this world… whether it be your family… your friends…" a single tear rolled down his cheek. "The love of your life…"

"S-Sir…" Link choked, trying to fight back his own tears. This was it. Mario's time was up. Death had come for him and was now beckoning for the lieutenant to come with him to the world beyond. Mario would be leaving everything he had known behind to venture forward.

Link would never speak with him again.

"I can only hope that… that my counsel was wise, Link…" Mario's voice was just barely above the tiniest of whispers. "That… that if you learned a thing from me… if you remember anything about me… that you will at least carry what I have tried to tell you all this time in your heart…"

Link felt his left hand, the one that was holding Mario's hand, tremble as he nodded. "I-I-I… y-yes…" liquid was starting to overflow in his eyes.

Mario's thin smile widened. "Thank you… and… one more thing…"

Link leaned in closer to hear. Despite his great hearing, the lieutenant's voice was quickly fading into a croak. "Yes… Mario…?"

"T-Tell… Peachy… t-tell my wife…" he felt the other man's pulse starting to fade. "T-Tell her… I will l-love her… until… the end… of time…"

* * *

**_December 20th 2010_**

**_Year of Farore's Wind_**

**_Soldier's Log: Link_**

**_Day 367_**

_I used to read about how people would look like they were sleeping peacefully when they died. _

_Today, I learned that in reality, they don't look like they're sleeping._

_They just look dead._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**A/N: Apologies for the delay. I've been working on other projects as of late.**

* * *

**_December 24th 2010_**

**_Year of Farore's Wind_**

**_Soldier's Log: Marth_**

**_Day 371_**

_We buried Mario in a quiet spot overlooking the sunset. The funeral was small and unnoticed by most, but there was still something about the whole thing that made it seem just right for Mario. After all, Mario was always one to love the simpler things in life. If he had the choice between this or a grand funeral, I believe that he would choose this any day._

_Luigi met Ike, Link, Pit, and myself right after dinner. Being Mario's brother, it was only fit that he held the body. We went over to a hole Link had dug earlier and placed the body in it. Few words were said as Link stooped down and filled in the hole. _

_Mario has no headstone._

_Much as I would prefer to spend the next few days in mourning, there is no time for that. No matter how many people fall, this is war. We must continue to hold our ground and fight, lest we should choose to sacrifice what little advantage we have. The moment all of us withdraw from this place, Subspace shall fall into anarchy._

_Link has spent much of his time in the medical tent. Much longer than he would need for a mere bullet wound. I can't help but wonder if there is something much worse plaguing him. Ike merely states that he has likely met a nice looking nurse. I dearly hope that is the case._

_Strange happenings have plagued the roads. It is by our honor that we have chosen to deliver jeeps filled with supplies once a week to the nearest Subspace town in order to feed the starving women and children. This past week, three jeeps have set out to deliver the supplies._

_None have returned._

_General Ganondorf has grown worried. It is quite evident in the behavior of the higher officials. They try not to show it, but the mess hall has been unusually quiet these days. The more jeeps go missing, the more troops and precious supplies we lose. If something is not done about this soon, then we'll likely starve to death before we are completely wiped out in battle._

_I have been chosen to be among those who will go out and search. Ironically, this is a search party for a search party. It is truly an honor to be chosen for such, but I can't help but wish that I had not accepted._

_There is something dark out there._

_And it's calling my name._

* * *

"Marth, hurry it up, will ya?" Red called as he loaded the jeep. "This jeep ain't gonna drive itself, you know!"

Marth allowed a small smile to creep onto his face as he carefully unfolded a white flag. "Hold your horses, Red. We need this thing to prevent us from getting shot at."

"Aw, c'mon Marth!" Red laughed. "It's Christmas Eve! Who the Hell would shoot us on Christmas Eve?"

Christmas Eve…

The mere mention of those two words was enough to silence him. It was today when many would prepare for the coming of Christmas Day. It was the day when housewives would stuff the geese, when presents would be wrapped, and when hearty dinners were shared.

He remembered the excitement he felt two weeks ago, when he was preparing to hop on the plane and fly home. He remembered how his mouth had watered at the thought of the rich plum pudding and the delicious fruit cake his mother would no doubt purchase. But most of all, he looked forward to the time when he would finally see Caeda's face again. When he could finally take her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her.

But he was here, fighting this war. He was here because the war had to go on. He was here because war never rested during the holidays. George Washington had proven that when he crossed the Delaware River on Christmas Eve, despite the biting cold of a great snowstorm. It was the victory that followed such an unpredicted move that helped turn the tide of the American Revolution.

He could look at this war as a way to help give Caeda a better world. She would like that, he knew. This was his pre-wedding gift to her. He was going to give her a better place to live in. Him being here, foregoing the joyful tidings of Christmas, was completely and utterly worth it if it meant making her smile.

He carefully wedged the white flag in between some of the crates in the back of the jeep. The flag was an extremely vital object. It signified that the people in the vehicle did not intend hostility. It also meant that attacking this jeep would be a grievous violation of a Law of War. After making sure it was secure, Marth took his spot as the driver of the jeep.

There were four of them that were going on this mission. Red, who travelled often, knew these lands best. He was to serve as navigator. Bowser, one of the best gun-men in the regiment, was going to be the main line of defense if anyone should dare attack the jeep. Captain Falcon, another higher ranking member of the Smash Regiment, was to serve as their commander. Marth himself was to serve as the driver of the jeep.

There were many tactical advantages for an enemy to take down any one of them. If Red was killed, they would lose their source of navigation. It would be quite possible for them to get lost and eventually die of thirst or starvation. If Bowser was slain, then they would lose their main line of defense and make them easy prey for others to attack. If Falcon was shot, then that would take out one of the leaders of the Smash Regiment, thus weakening the commanding aspect of the army. All three of them were in extremely dangerous positions and would cost the regiment greatly of any of them should fall.

But it was Marth that was in the greatest danger of all.

He was the driver of the jeep, thus being the most lightly armed and the most unlikely to be able to block an incoming attack. Take him out and the jeep would go out of control. Make the jeep go out of control and the other three were susceptible to more attacks. Make the other three susceptible and it would be easy pickings for the enemy.

In one single blow, all four of them could be eliminated.

He had to make sure that that never happened.

"Everyone seat belted?" he asked as he put on his own seatbelt.

"Check," Bowser said, obviously bored.

"Check!" Red said eagerly.

"Of course," Captain Falcon said. "Just fire her up, Marth. We've got a search party to search for."

The moment Marth turned the key, the engine roared to life. Black smoke plumed out from the exhaust pipe as the jeep zoomed steadily along the sun-baked dirt road. A dust cloud steadily followed them in their wake, sometimes coming close enough to cause them to nearly choke.

It was a torturously hot day, a day that not even the air conditioning of the jeep could solve. What was more, the drive was tedious, the scenery relentlessly unchanging. Marth's eyes glazed over as he continued to stare wistfully at the endless road before him. It would seem like years before they would find anything of significant importance.

He couldn't help but remember that it was on a day like this that he met Hardin for the first time. He had been a student in the military academy back then and was learning how to drive a jeep for the first time. It had been extremely hot as well and it didn't help that he had forgotten to bring water with him. Overcome by thirst and exhaustion, Marth had fainted and fallen right out of the jeep. Miraculously, he had been otherwise unharmed.

He had woken up some time later to be met by a gourd of water held to his lips. The man holding it was dressed in the gauze of the dessert with dark hair and even darker eyes. His face had borne the look of seriousness that only truly experienced soldiers could ever possess. He had rehydrated Marth and it was not long until he had delivered the still dehydrated young man back to the military academy.

He had learned very little about the man who quite possibly saved his life, but despite that, he had still felt that he had made a friend. The only thing he did learn was that he was a well-respected spy from the Akaneia Regiment and was more often than not used in order to help extract information from the enemy lines. He supposedly spoke at least 30 different languages and was a master of deceit.

That had been years and years ago.

"Everything's awfully quiet," Red remarked, yawning. "Too quiet, if you ask me."

"It's because we've got this white flag thing," Bowser grumbled. "if it were up to me, we'd just ditch the flag and run in waving AK-47's. Those Primids won't know what him 'em."

"This is a _search party_, Private," Captain Falcon said sharply. "Our mission is to look for those who have gone missing and possibly help any civilians that are in need." he shifted his position. "… Step on the gas, Marth. The faster we find someone, the faster we can get back."

Red grinned. "Totally. I could use a-"

_BOOM!_

The front bumper was blown right off the car, causing everyone in the jeep to jump. Thrown off balance, the jeep jerked forward, the intense momentum causing the car to flip over, smashing its headlights and causing the roof to cave in. Marth's elbow slammed into the window, causing glass shards to spray everywhere. Warm blood flowed freely from a large gash on his cheek, burning into his flesh like acid. The airbags deployed, but they were not enough. The moment Marth's face smashed into them, his nose was broken with a sickening _crunch!_

Bowser's gun discharged as the jeep flipped over again, this time losing its back left wheel as it landed on yet another invisible landmine. Blinded by blood flowing from his forehead and deafened by the explosion of the gun, Marth wildly spun the wheel in an attempt to regain control. He faintly heard Captain Falcon cry out for just a moment before more gunfire filled his ears.

_Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!_

The windows smashed as the bullets pierced the glass, some of them friendly fire whereas others belonged to their attackers. Marth, exposed by the window his elbow had shattered, gritted his teeth against the intense pain of the bullets biting into his flesh.

"ARCEUS DAMN THEM!" Red cursed, pulling out his gun in an attempt to counter. "THEY'RE SHOOTING A JEEP WITH A GODDAMN WHITE FLAG! THEY'RE-"

More blood pooled and mixed with Marth's, painting the interior of the army jeep a deep red. Desperately wrenching the wheel, Marth tried his best to get the jeep to head back to the Regiment Camp before he was too injured to drive. Red's deathly pale corpse bumped against him steadily as he slammed his foot into the gas.

Bowser and Captain Falcon were both desperately trying to keep the enemy off their tail, using what little weapons they had. The machine guns rattled off bullets quicker than lightning, but those were not enough. Their pursuers outnumbered them greatly. If they didn't make it to the camp soon, none of them would make it out alive.

Through the completely shattered front window, Marth saw it first. A large object, jet black against the bright blue sky. As it slowly turned in midair, he could just barely make out the dreaded fuse, already pulled and primed for detonation. He had exactly 23 seconds from the moment the fuse was pulled to either swerve and dodge it or somehow send it hurtling back.

It landed in the backseat.

_BOOM!_

Marth undid his seatbelt just in time, allowing him to leap out of the way just in time to avoid the explosion. Blood splattered his clothes as metal and glass scraped every exposed bit of his skin. He landed on the ground and watched in horror as body and car parts flew through the air, mingling with the gallons upon gallons of blood that sprayed the ground.

A searing pain in his right leg told him that he had not escaped the explosion unscathed. A large layer of his skin had been cruelly ripped off, exposing the muscle underneath. Gasping in pain, Marth desperately crawled away as fast as he could, trying his best to ignore the pain that was shooting through him.

He watched in silent horror as three army jeeps stopped at the rubble, each of them holding at least four Primids each. While eight of them investigated the mess, four of them turned their guns on Marth. Shaking with fear and exhaustion, Marth glared silently as one man stepped forward.

It was Hardin.

"Y-Y-You…" he stammered, his vision wavering slightly from the loss of blood.

"Ah, Marth Lowell," Hardin replied, giving him a cold smile that never quite reached his eyes. "It is, I admit, horrid to see you again."

Marth tried to reach his pistol, but his fingers refused to respond. "W-Why…?"

"I am a man of many things, Marth Lowell," Hardin said calmly. "But most of all, I am what most would call a mercenary. My services are top notch, yes, but I require the proper payment of some kind. Lord Tabuu has offered me much if I simply take out the Brawl Regiment. And the way you fools simply keep sending out jeeps. You have become easy targets, old friend."

Marth's glare became venomous. "D-Damn… you…"

Hardin laughed, high and cruel. "Is that all you can muster, Marth? I thought you were better than that…" he pulled out a .98 Colt Revolver and pointed it at his prey. "I will send my greetings to Caeda… I'll tell her just how you went down…" he placed his finger on the trigger. "A sniveling, begging, crying, pathetic coward…"

* * *

Isaac looked at the large wooden door and hesitated.

He was never one to enjoy bearing bad news.

But the order had arrived from Captain Pit himself today. And it was in his nature to follow orders. Sighing, Isaac raised one shaky hand and knocked.

A woman answered. A beautiful woman at that. She was tall and slender, with clear skin and gorgeously kept dark blue hair. Her sapphire colored eyes sparkled with the merriment that could only come from the celebrations of Christmas Eve. He watched as her pristine face twisted itself into an expression of surprise for a moment before her features became serene.

He saluted her.

She allowed him inside. In spite of the news he wished to give her, he accepted a drink from her. There were others here as well. But he had been ordered to speak only to three people: Caeda Regina and Lord and Lady Lowell.

The fire was roaring. The apple cider they gave him was warm and sweet. He finished the entire glass. As he did so, he couldn't help but notice their eyes on him.

He had to deliver the message.

"… I… I don't suppose you know me," he said quietly. As he spoke, the temperature of the room seemed to drop at least ten degrees. "My name is Isaac… First Corporal of the Assist Regiment… I have worked alongside your son, Marth, as well as others."

They remained silent. But the expressions on their faces gave everything away. They wanted to know why he was here. A lump appeared in Isaac's throat as he saw this.

He swallowed.

"I regret to inform you that your son will not be arriving home at the end of this war..."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

_**December 25**__**th**__** 2010**_

_**Year of Farore's Wind**_

_**Soldier's Log: Link**_

_**Day 372**_

_A Christmas Party is to be held today in the Mess Hall. It is supposedly the one day of the year when we come together and celebrate all that we are blessed with. It is on this day that we can break out our spirits and sing our songs and laugh our laughs. This is the one day of the year when at long last, we return to being Men._

_Until that cruel hour when the mask of a Man falls and the Soldier must come out again._

_Man and Soldier, we all are. Jekyll and Hyde. There are times to make merry and times to fight. When the Good in the Man clouds the Resolve of the Soldier, all shall be thrown to chaos._

_But is that true? Is each of us not one man, but two: the emotional being and the cold machine? Or are we all not one, but many? _

_Marth used to ask questions like that. Marth used to ponder the answers day and night, murmuring to himself as he lay awake and stared at the stars. He used to speak up- quite randomly, might I add- at mealtimes with a new theory as to what Man was._

_And every time he asked me, I would always give him the cold shoulder. I had always meant to someday come up with an answer and tell him. I had always meant to give him yet another theory to ponder over. I had always meant to remind him that there was much more to life than pondering over the makings of Man._

_But never shall I speak with him again._

* * *

It was snowing.

He was burning.

A fire roared behind him.

It was freezing.

Laughter rang through the air.

It was cold.

He stood there, face pressed against the glacial windowpane, sharp blue eyes glaring out into the snowy landscape before him. Never before had he noticed how truly disgusting the snow looked. They laid there, those flecks of snow, corrupted by the dirt, blood, and woe it tried so hard to disguise.

Nothing could hide from those sharp eyes. Dark though it was outside, he could still see- quite clearly, it must be added- the light flecks of red upon the seemingly immaculate surface. He gritted his teeth as he saw this.

To who did those red drops belong?

More laughter behind him. The sound, once a joyful tune to his ears, had long been reduced to taunting jeers. Without his being aware of it, his cheeks went chalk white as his large, usually gentle hands curled into fists. How _dare_ they laugh and be merry when one of their one was dead? How _dare_ they celebrate this holiday when any one of them could be next?

How _dare_ they not care?

No one, save himself, had gone to the funeral. Ike, his longtime friend, had refused to come out of his room. Moreover, the others had not known Marth as he, Ike, and Pit knew him. And on top of all of that, Pit had his duties to carry out. There wasn't even time for him to go and mourn the loss of _his_ closest friend, Red.

Indeed, the news of Marth's passing had devastated Link. The Hylian had been half tempted to punch the unfortunate messenger, Lieutenant Falco, then and there. He wanted to rage, to kill, to destroy. He wanted to pick up his gun and march right over to Tabuu himself, to make him _pay_ for all he had done. He wanted so much, but could gain so little…

Marth would have hated such thoughts from him. The gentler man was one who dreamed of treaties and of doves. Of olive branches and of handshakes. To him, that was how all disagreements should be put an end to. A treaty here, a treaty there, and soon there would be world peace.

Oh, why could it never be that simple?

No longer did he, Link, understand why they fought this war. Long ago, it seemed to him that they fought because the Subspace Ruler had been hiding weapons somewhere in his country. But now, it seemed to him that they were fighting for the sake of making war. Every day, more lives were lost on both sides, more children became orphans, more anarchy spreading throughout all corners of the country. And it seemed to him that no matter how hard he tried, he would never truly be able to find a reason to fight.

"Marth…" the name was said in a whisper. A broken, emotionless whisper. Faintly, Link's Hylian ears could detect the gritty edge of tears hidden deep within.

"Hello, Ike…" Link said quietly, turning to look at the larger man next to him. This had been the first time since Marth's death that he had seen the former mercenary out of his room.

Ike, to be said simply, looked the worst Link had seen for a long time. In the short time since he had heard of the young man's death, Ike had shrunken considerably. What was once great, yet lean muscles, had long given way to little more than skin and bones. Deep purple circles framed both eyes, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. His mussed blue hair fell in flat bangs all over his face. With his ghost white skin and lined face, he looked as if he aged a thousand years.

"Marth," Ike repeated. He said it much shorter this time, as if he lacked the breath to speak it.

"I know…" Link answered. "I miss him too…"

"Marth…"

There was no point in attempting to engage his friend in conversation. That much was made clear to Link. It was with a heavy heart that the young man was forced to place a hand on Ike's shoulder and steer him out of the room. Ike simply sat there in a chair, babbling Marth's name over and over again as Link helped him clean his teeth and carefully put him to bed. He was still mumbling when the Hylian left the room.

He returned to his spot by the window, only to find that it was currently occupied by someone else. She sat there, wrapped in a cloak, staring out at the snowy landscape outside. In spite of the numbness Link felt, he could not help but feel his spirits lift slightly when he saw her. Now here was someone he could talk to, someone who knew what it was like to suffer a loss…

She looked up and smiled as he approached, her porcelain face seeming to glow from within. In spite of that, however, Link could easily look past her pristine features and see the quiet, sad soul behind her periwinkle eyes. She scooted over, allowing him some room to sit next to her. He was surprised by how warm her body felt against his, a feeling he had not felt in a very, very long time.

She spoke first. "… Happy Yuletide, Link."

"Same to you," he answered weakly. "I… I hope your folks at home are doing alright…"

"Ah, yes," she replied. "I am almost certain that... that there is absolutely nothing wrong at home." Link noted a sense of bitterness in her tone, as if she had swallowed a particularly foul-tasting medicine.

Link chose to change the subject. "Your accent… I can tell you're Hylian, and yet…"

"And yet my accent is most unlike yours?" she asked gently. When Link nodded, she continued. "I am from the Lanayru Province of Hyrule. I became a nurse for this regiment because I wished to do something more than simply embroider and look pretty. I wished to contribute something to the war effort, in spite of my views of this war…"

Link was shocked. Never before had he heard anyone speak so plainly about their motive for joining the army. "I… What are your views of this war, then?"

Her features seemed to fall at his question. "… I believe that while our intentions were good in the beginning, there is no longer any point to this war."

Link frowned. "No longer any point? Zelda, I'm afraid you're quite mistaken. The reason we're fighting this war is to prevent the people of Subspace from going into anarchy… and to prevent anyone else from gaining power. Should we withdraw from this place now, anyone with enough charisma can easily overthrow Tabuu and then we'll possibly have an even worse dictator on our hands."

Zelda sighed, her nostrils flaring as she closed her eyes. "… Yes… yes, I understand that, Link. But have you ever considered looking at it from another perspective? Link, we are no longer simply fighting a war. We are now _occupying_ areas, controlling and manipulating them for our own gain. While some of us claim to help the people of Subspace, we forget that they were leading a reasonably moderate way of life before the war happened."

Link stiffened. "General Ganondorf is the commander of the entire armed forces. If he believes it is wisest to continue fighting, then-"

"Then what, Link?" Zelda demanded. "Then what? Do you not remember who initiated this war in the first place? It was Master Hand, acting under the pretense of Tabuu hoarding powerful weapons in this country. I know that you soldiers have already scoured this place high and low in search of them, only to turn up with nothing." her voice was little more than a whisper now. "Link, don't you see…? We are only making war for the sake of war…"

"No… you're the one that doesn't understand," Link snapped angrily. "The reason we are fighting is to help the people here. Tabuu is a tyrant and must be brought to justice. He is a coward who hides behind his villages and his soldiers rather than facing up to Master Hand like a man. He is-"

"He is a ruler, Link," Zelda countered. "He is a ruler who you may see as a faceless enemy, but who others see as their savior. Link, like it or not, you are invading their home. You are a stranger to them, Link. Yes, there are those that wait with joy in your coming, but there are also those that remain wary of you, even hate you because you are not a man of their blood. They willingly march out to meet you on the battlefield because not only are they under orders, but they are also willing to fight for their home. Rather than resorting to deceit and falsehoods to claim victory, these men- the ones that you claim to be your mortal enemies- march out bravely to meet you, willing to die in the name of their country."

This couldn't be true. He refused to believe it. Although he was always out on the front lines, Link never believed the Primids he fought could ever be human. No, they were monsters. General Ganondorf, Master Hand, Vice President Crazy Hand… all of them insisted that what they faced out on the battlefield were not men, but machines. Monsters trained to annihilate all in their path. For a young cadet such as Link, it was either life or death on that field. Either they got shot or they shoot first.

The number one rule of war.

He hated this place, this war. He wanted nothing more than to return home, to go back to his family. He was sick of the cold, the hunger, and the blood. The longer he stared at his hands each night, the more blood he saw coming off it in torrents. He had done everything he could to numb the pain of all the life he had ended, everything from drinking to drugs to smoking. But no matter what he did, the pain always seemed to grow worse.

He dropped the drugs and smoking, but the bottle remained his savior.

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Link asked. "Because in the end, someone's going to get shot either way… someone's going to get stabbed in the back and the people who pay are us, the soldiers." his hand curled into a fist, tears pricking his eyes as Marth's face entered his thoughts. "It's the soldiers who get shot, blown up, and God knows what else every single damn battle. It's the soldiers that have to limp home, crippled with lost limbs or schizophrenia or _whatever_ that they catch out here… and what do people do? They sit at home all smiling and happy and thinking to themselves 'hey, at least it wasn't me!'… on both sides, there are people who sit at home and twiddle their thumbs, their biggest worry being the taxes or which politician is going to sing best on election day… they think this is all a _game_… but it's not…" his voice broke. "It never was…"

"… The civilians… there are some that are indeed like that, yes," Zelda said quietly. "But there are others that have lost much because of this war as well. Do you not know of the many attacks on civilians that have been carried out in the past and still continue today? Yes, it is true that every day, one more man falls for his country… but it is also true that every day, another man- one who has never so much as set foot on the battlefield before in his life- dies as well. When there is war, Link, _everyone_ suffers. _Everyone_ must pay the consequences for their country invading another. No one, not even Master Hand and Tabuu, can escape these consequences. You can claim all you want that it is the soldiers that take the heaviest losses, but what about the people? Do you not know a war-time economy? Do you not know how many husbands and brothers are called away to war and never return? And not just on our side either. On ours, on theirs, and on the people's side who don't even want to involve themselves in this war, Link. Those are _people_ dying out there, Link…"

He hated her words.

"My friend… my brother…" Link's voice was just barely above a furious whisper. "Marth was not killed by a person. No one in their right mind would ever lay so much as a finger on Marth. Those people are not men, Zelda. They're _monsters_! And they must pay!"

Her pale features seemed to turn to ice, her blue eyes flashed with anger. "Really? And have you ever thought of what they are fighting for? They are fighting for their home, their families! They're fighting to keep their land safe!"

"They're doing this shit because Tabuu ordered them to!" Link snapped. "I bet they'd be glad once we're done with them!"

"Your words are those of a fool, Link," Zelda whispered, tears springing to her eyes. "And I know that you are certainly no fool…"

Link clenched his fist, glaring at the woman before him. Something in him told him to run away now, to back out of this argument before it escalated. Another part of him, however, told him something else.

He was forced back in time, floating within his own memory, watching his fist battle as a young recruit. The Smash Regiment had decided to stage an ambush in the forest, where they knew a Primid camp lay. Unfortunately, the order had been misinterpreted, and the Primids were ready for them by the time they attacked.

Link had been badly injured during the attack, his leg deeply wounded and bleeding from a grenade tossed at the front lines. He had been attempting to crawl away, to escape to a quiet place where he could bleed out and die. His remembered how fuzzy his vision was, tainted red with blood from a wound on his forehead. He remembered his slow, laboring breaths as he managed to crawl his way past numerous falling bodies, eyes searching desperately for a quiet spot to die.

He had collapsed not too long after.

When he next woke, there had been someone standing over him. From the color of the soldier's uniform- tainted red with blood- Link could tell that this man was not a member of his regiment. In fact, the puce green color of the Primid uniform told him that his end would not come from blood loss, but a shot to the head.

The man had been doing something with his leg. When he noticed that Link was awake, he had wordlessly pressed something to his lips. Link barely had time to taste the water within before the canteen was removed and the man was gone. But not before Link caught the kind smile in his eyes.

The look in his eyes continued to haunt the Hylian to this day.

Suddenly, Link was back in present time. Standing before him was the beautiful young woman, her eyes reddened with tears. He hesitated, opening his mouth twice to apologize, but closing it just as quickly. For one who believed so much in the power of Courage, he was ashamed to say that in this moment, he lacked it.

As if sensing his plight, Zelda placed a hand on his shoulder. "Your friend died serving Smashville as a hero, Link… there is no higher honor than that. No matter what happens, there will always be someone out there that will not forget his deeds nor yours, nor Ike's, nor anyone's in this regiment. That's because in spite of the heavy losses you take, you continue to save the lives of the innocents, the civilians. And no matter what, there will be someone out there who is thankful for all you have done to help make this world a better place…"

Link turned to stare at her, the soft firelight casting a radiant glow upon her regal cheekbones. A small smile touched his lips as her words- wise, like the sages of old- echoed within his mind. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps there was some part of him that agreed with her. Perhaps…

_POW!_

* * *

_He wrenched open the door, dashing into the room without a second thought. He had not bothered to turn on the light, already knowing full well where it had come from. The gleam of silver upon the floor where the sliver of hall light ended told him everything._

_A cold hand wrapped around his heart, wrenching it away from his body. He was a soulless, empty shell. He was blind, deaf, and numb. He wanted to tear his eyes away from this horrid sight, run away before it could be engraved into him forever. But there was no turning back, no running off like a coward._

_A red stain spread across the sheets._


End file.
